Page 34 of Season of the Scoundrel
“You needn’t worry.” Ivy nodded as if to reassure him, but the truth was that the moment he’d walked into the townhouse this evening, she’d thought of the kisses they’d shared and wondered when the next would be.
Perhaps she should be more fastidious about boundaries. The whole point of their false engagement was to safeguard their reputations, but boundaries weren’t what she wanted with Ross.
In fact, she only wanted more closeness, to know him better, to spend time with him. Perhaps he had a magnetic appeal to everyone who encountered him, but she was the one sitting across from him.
She was the one his gaze returned to again and again. It was heady, as if she’d sipped too much wine.
Before she could say more, their carriage rolled to a stop as it joined the queue of disembarking guests in front of Lord Grainger’s St. James Square home.
Ross handed her down, then looked at her expectantly. “People may stare. They may whisper. I find it best to behave as if it is expected. As none of it unsettles you.”
“Does it ever unsettle you?”
After they were admitted, handed over their coats, and were announced, Ross laid his hand over hers where she held his arm and scanned his gaze around the room.
Ivy’s anxieties had been warranted.
A sort of hush and the titter of whispers and conversation grew, and it felt as if everyone’s eyes were suddenly on them. But with those who gaped too long, Ross held their gaze until theyturned away. With those who whispered he stared them down until they felt his attention. A few looked duly chastened.
Then he moved her to a spot near the edge the room and leaned down to whisper. “Sometimes it does unsettle me.”
“But you’ve grown used to it.” Ivy still felt a bit like a butterfly pinned to a board for everyone’s inspection, but he’d silenced much of the reaction with a few looks.
“Mmm. Though as your sister would remind me, I’ve also avoided society when it suits me too.” He glanced at her. “And tonight is different because of you.”
Ivy caught a few ladies with their heads turned her way, the gazes assessing her. “They’re curious about why you chose me. Perhaps jealous.”
If they were not conspiring in this ruse and he’d walked into the room with his future duchess on his arm, she’d feel envy too. Admitting as much to herself made her mouth suddenly dry.
When she looked up at Ross, he smiled. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?”
“I rather like not doing this alone.” He held her gaze. “I like walking into a room with you beside me,” he said with an earnestness in his eyes that made her cheeks flood with warmth.
She wished they weren’t in a crowded room. The urge to kiss him nearly overwhelmed her.
“Blackbourne, so good of you to accept my invitation.” The resonant voice was one Ivy had heard before.
“Grainger,” Ross said, turning to the handsome nobleman who’d she’d refused to allow to touch her at Penrose’s party. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“And Miss Bridewell.” Grainger made no attempt to reach for her hand this time. He merely nodded in her direction. “Or should I say the future Duchess of Blackbourne.”
Ivy exchanged a look with Ross. The official announcement had not yet made the papers.
“Tittle-tattle travels quickly,” Grainger said with low chuckle. “While my sister holds court here with our guests, would you join me in my study, Blackbourne?”
Ivy immediately held a bit tighter to Ross’s arm. She wasn’t a coward, by any means, but she didn’t relish being left in this sea of curious onlookers. But even more, she wanted to know what Grainger wished to discuss with Ross.
“A few moments of your time. It won’t take long,” Grainger assured, his gaze flickering down to their linked arms.
“A few moments then,” Ross told him, then gave Ivy a look as if to reassure her.
Ivy released his arm and nodded.
When the two left the drawing room where most of the guests were gathered, Ivy accepted a drink from a passing footman and sipped at the tepid lemonade.
A redhead wearing a striking sapphire gown approached with a smile. “Miss Bridewell, welcome. I am Madeline Grainger. I don’t think we’ve met. When my brother told me to invite Blackbourne, I didn’t know he’d be accompanied by his betrothed.”
